I’m afraid I missed the humour in your last post Slightly. The mild allusion that I may be cretinous was not missed. However, I will forgive and forget on the assumption you were overcome with the heat! Hope you are enjoying your travels and I look forward to hearing more of your adventures.
Dodgy shorts, questionable stomach
Neil in St Pol
Bouledoux at St Ceb
The long and winding road to the beach
Poor Hannah. I hope that it’s an ironic thing being named after the smiling cretin from Steps. Also we will be in Goa in about a month, burning up in the sun. Your olds may just get a surprise from some friendly faces.
I suppose the monkeys are acustomed to travellers having loads of goodies in their bags. Hope Sasha is still ok.
The ever-looming prospect of bird flu is concerning me at the moment as it seems that the fogies are off to goa just before the chickens have to be slaughtered by decree of parliament, leaving the task to myself and H. Thankfully H is willing to snap their necks if I hold them!
No footy this week, which makes three whole weekends without exercise. Well, apart from some walking in Cornwall and a jolly game of golf today with solid and his friend Chris. We played a form of matchplay, where the winner of a hole gets 2 points and second gets 1 and last 0. We thought if might make things more interesting and competative but I’m not really sure it did!
Paul Twitchell, an ordinary looking, almost ominously clean-cut American, having learned the art of soul travel, claims he is able to meet, while in his soul body, the soul body of Sudar Singh, in the astral realm known as Sach Khand; he is also able to pay visits to a five hundred year old man in a hut high up in the Himalayas, without ever leaving his Connecticut home.
“After extensive exploration of Sach Khand (Fifth spiritual plane), Sudar Singh granted me permission to proceed on my own through the spiritual worlds. It was through Sudar Singh while travelling in the Soul body, that I met Rebazar Tarzs and intensified the study of the world called The Far Country, during a lengthy visit with him in the Himalayas above Darjeeling.
Later, with Gail, my wife, I came to know Rebazar Tarzs better. He talked several times to us. I began to leave the body at night and meet with him at his mud and brick hut in the Himalayas.
Rebazar Tarzs is a man who looks to be in his middle thirties, but many, including Yaubl Sacabi (another explorer of The Far Country), say that he is well over five hundred years old in his physical body.
Tarzs’ black hair is cropped closely, and is curly enough not to bother him in the fierce winds from the icy mountains. His beard is coal black and trimmed close. His eyes are shining coals of dark fire, his lips purple and his speech a clipped style as he barks words to emphasise points he is making. His flesh is dark, swarthy from the hot sun and winds. His feet are large, generally encased in sandals, but he often goes barefooted through the rocks and sand. They are as dark as walnut stain.
Rebazar Tarzs lives alone in his little, mud-brick hut high on a cliff above a torrential blue river, roaring out of the high glaciers across the valley into the plains to feed the teeming millions, six hundred miles to the south in the vast sweltering midlands.
Often leaving his physical body on the rude cot inside the hut, Rabazar Tarzs goes to the Tuza who needs his help, or to teach in one of the temples of the Far Country.”
Yesterday was supposed to be a beautiful day in which we made the pilgrimage to the top of Arunachala – the holy mountain where Shiva is said to have appeared as I plume of fire.
Unsurprisingly climbling 950 meters in 30-something degree heat isn’t very easy – and the climb was surprisingly steap. An English guy said that it would take about 1 hour and a half but it took us more like 3 and half hours. I was pretty amazed and impressed that Sasha had decided to come too at the last minute.
We eventually got to the top, sweat dripping profusely down my face and into my eyes because I was also carrying provisions and 2.5 litres of water (though Sasha took it for half an hour). We were exhausted and the top was covered in oil because they set fire to it every year for a festival- we both agreed it hadn’t been worth the effort. We sat down on two ledges next to each other on the side of the mountain – Sasha with the bag, when two monkies started to purposefully climb towards us from below. They headed straight for Sasha and the bag -Â I told her to watch out but she just froze and quick as a flash one of the monkeys approached and attacked her! It was grabbing at the bag and clawing at Sasha. I left over to her ledge and scared them away – she was fine but had suffered a two inch scratch on her back near her shoulder. It wasn’t deep and she wasn’t bleading but it had happened very quickly and she was quite shaken.
We made our way down and were advised by the ashram to go to see a doctor and get rabies vacinations for her just in case. Bites are worse then scratches and the monkies almost certainly weren’t rabid. We got an appointment at 6:30pm and Sasha was prescribed three antibiotics and the rabies vacination. The doctor said we had to buy them ourselves from a chemist. However none of the three pharmacists he recommended had the vacination and we were left wandering around the town in the dark between chemists trying to get directions from locals who spoke only slightlt more English than we spoke Tamil. Eventually the fifth chemist recommeded somewhere that thank goodness, when we got there actually had the shots we needed. Exhausted we went back to the doctor who administered the first injection and then to have dinner in a restaurant recommended by The Lonely Planet. Both out dishes turned out to consist of very spicey tomatoe puree, lots of oil and not much else - gross. After some hassle with a rickshaw driver we eventually got back to the ashram.
Bad dad. Although we’ve been here two weeks they seem to have been very eventful and it seems more like two months. Sasha is fine this morning – we are off to Auroville in an hour.
A most invigorating game of badmington last night, where Jacques and I in the first two games were 10-5 down, fought back to 14-14, and went on to win both. We then lost focus and the third game went against us 15-5. A rushed fourth game which we were winning had to be abandoned as time was running out.
I like to think it would have been just as much fun if the scores had been reversed, which they easily could have been.
Despite sarcastic comments along the lines of ‘should be in an antique shop’, I have no complaints about my trusty wooden racquet, from whose frame many a winning shot has come.
Wahey Cornwall! Actually I went body boarding last week and although the waves weren’t that vicious they were adequate – it was the deadly rip tide that was vicious. Causing “far too many deaths” according to Lonely Planet. I did find it hard to keep my feet still in the water even when I could touch the ground as I was being pushed so hard but I figured i had a body board and a surfer from California (my friend Jesse- no not that one) to save me if required.
Climbed a mountain today and saw a six foot snake. Most exciting- however it slithered away and was a scrawny little thing not a cobra or constrictor of any type.
H and I spent this weekend in Cornwall, staying at a place called “Broom Parc”. Broom Parc was very close to the coast; in fact, right outside the back door was the clifftop coastal walk which goes round most of the cornish coast.
On the first morning, we strode out, heading eastwards along the precarious path towards the highest coastal point in those parts, “The Dodman”. However, it was pretty hard work and we soon realised we wouldn’t have enough light to make it back so we cut the trip short. So we drove to it on the way home and found it fairly spectacular. Will post some photos at some point.
We also visited the Eden project which was pretty good, but rather pricy at £12.50 per adult.
One notable sighting, was that of a dead dolphin that washed up on the beach as we were having lunch – it had been fairly mangled by rocks and soforth, but didn’t have any noticable bite marks, so we’re not sure how it died.
Our food cost a little more than 10 pounds between us, but it is a small price to pay when considering the rather small chance of catching malaria and/or leprosy whilst in cornwall!
I finally worked out the good ponts of Pondicherry. Firstly the streets are slightly cleaner (although the sewage smell was very bad in places), secondly there are no cows in the streets (maybe the only town in India but I like the cows anyway) and thirdly I can appreciate that after an extended period in India the weary traveller would probably kill for some decent food. Not only are the Indian restaurants good (Jesse was right about the butter fish – it does actually taste buttery – yum) but there are genuinely French restaurants (genuine as in the food – I know that they are still in India). We had a pretty swanky time in a proper frog place and ate food that seemed that a French chef had made – a decent one too! We managed to spend 10 pounds between the three of us - our India record!
Yesterday we left Jesse to go to Karakai and came here to Tiruvanamalai – a pretty tireing journey on a local Indian bus for four hours. I saw lots of fields on the way in which I was told were growing both rice and “ground nuts” – peanuts.
The ashram is a very smart place for India where they do lots of devotional chanting - both to Ramana Maharshi and also to his mother (!?). MOnkeys and especially peacocks are everywhere in the grounds – and the peacocks only make up for their infernal screaching by looking just lovely. Just behind the ashram is Mount Arunachala which is the mountain Ramana came all this way escpecially to be with. It’s supposed to be made of some of the oldest rocks on the planet and although it isn’t that high it had huge boulders scattered all across. Much of the landscape around here is boulders and hills with boulders on. AT dinner time you sit on the marble floor cross legged with banana leaf in front of you and ashram cooks splosh rice, dahl, milk, a bit of salad onto your plate. Most Indians do a bit where they mix the rice with the liquids and into a goey ball and then scoop in into their gobs. I don’t. I just spill rice on my trousers.
The mossies are numerous and vicious here and Sasha and I have made a little tent (like you do when you’re four years old) out of our mosquitoe net. Very cosy.
Right -it’s 12:30pm now and I’m off to bed now as we got up at 6.20am – 0:50am your time to watch the offering of milk to Ramana Maharshi’s shrine.
Good night
Tom
i dont need to cut my hair! and my beard needs only the lightest of trimmings.
sounds like you are having a jolly time. it looks like i will be following in you footsteps so let me know of anything you would recomend highly
hail t and s,
Sounds like you’re both are having a good time and I hope you avoid all the facinating and hideous diseases out there. Such as leprosey and the like.
H and I were visiting my gran this weekend and had a jolly time meeting cousins, aunts and uncles i haven’t seen in a while and H hadn’t met at all. And newcastle won their second game in a row which is more or less unheard of in recent times. Also, rumour has it that M O’Neil is preferring Newcastle over the england job, which is understandable…
I can provide you with everyone’s email addresses if you like, but I think the blog far superiour for any lengthy or short “group” messages.
J still hasn’t cut his hair or shaved his beard.
After travelling for three weeks over half of Canada, I did not see one moose before I returned home. Luckily for Mum, the day after I left, she was able to see a few very close too whilst resting in the August sun.